


On Wednesday

by Aya_A_Anderson



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, F/M, Genderbending, connecting ficlets, guild!AU, soulmate!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:37:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2882585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aya_A_Anderson/pseuds/Aya_A_Anderson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six-ish Kuroo/Fem!Tsukki prompts for HQSS 2014. Generally cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Wednesday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taenka.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=taenka.tumblr.com).



1 – Hair

Tsukishima spluttered for a very long six-ish seconds, before she said, “Your _hair.”_

Kuroo, of course, ran long fingers through the crest of his dark hair, tilting his head to the side so as to better showcase the buzzcut which ran in a sweeping arc from his temples to the nape of his neck. It might be classed as an undercut, but the rest and majority of his hair was gelled upwards as usual. Tsukishima thought it looked dreadful.

“Graduation thing,” he said, as though it explained everything. Then he leered at her. Jerk – just because he was older than she was, didn’t make him any more intelligent than her; his haircut attested to that. Then, “Wanna touch it?”

They sat in Tsukishima’s bedroom. Kuroo had been waiting for her when she’d arrived home from school. Yamaguchi had spotted him first through the window, shrieked out a flurry of nervous giggles, a hurried “Bye, Tsukki!” and bolted back down the path towards the main road. Tsukishima squinted up towards the window, which apparently seemed more like the usual scowl from Kuroo’s vantage than she’d predicted.

Now, she was very much scowling. Tsukishima slapped Kuroo’s long, inviting fingers away, and reached for the cropped sides of his skull, tracing the pads of her thumbs over the prickly skin. “I thought we’d made an agreement on discussing stupid, impulsive decisions.”

“We did,” Kuroo agreed, leaning creepily into her touch, “This wasn’t impulsive. This was fully planned.”

“Stop leering,” snapped Tsukishima.

“Kei,” said Kuroo, quite happily. He leaned further into her side, kicking his long legs up over the end of her bed, shoes abandoned on the floor.

 

2 – Holiday

“Kenma says he’s training anyway.”

“No.”

“You’ll never advance in your own guild unless you train more. Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

“Aren’t you here because we’re dating?”

Kuroo wound Kei’s long plait around, around and around his hand, his other lax on her stomach. In truth, he didn’t feel terribly like crawling out of their sedentary pit of a dorm room to train at staking, banishing and beheading murderous creatures of the night. There was a lazy smell in the air, the window was open, and the spring breeze was warm.

Thoughtfully, he said, “Why not,” and begun to trace the golden Karasuno guild sigil up her arm. It glittered strangely in the light, seeming almost to move as a murder of crows taking flight, wound all throughout with thick, knotted chord. Overhand, on her soft palm, was the sigil unique to banishers. Kuroo had the same sigil, and he compared them now, her gold against the blood red of his own guild. Karasuno and Nekoma were quite friendly – he wasn’t sure if any other training pair had gotten as friendly as he and Kei had; if you could call whatever they had friendly.

She leaned back and kissed him a bit on the mouth. “No,” she said, and Kuroo shrugged and decided to go back to sleep with her.

 

3 – Painting

“I’ll need to see the paintings before I say yes.”

Kuroo Tetsurou – and she could barely believe she was having coffee with him, after Google searching his name and seeing art magazine headlines, the usual _Rising star!_ interspersed with _Abstract, idealistic_ and often _superlatively mellow, akin to nostalgia_ – grinned in a way that was becoming familiar to her, and said, “I have a few good pictures on my iPad.”

He brought it out and they moved through these pictures, together. A sea scape at night, with echoes of a city in the waves and distant horizon. A painting of a palette of paints. A warped living room. The waifish face of a young man with catlike eyes and badly dyed hair, who Tsukishima recognised as Kuroo’s ex-boyfriend.

“All of these are going to be shown at _Bokuto_ from New Year’s Eve until mid-January. He’ll probably slacken off on the mid-January thing, might show them for shorter or longer depending on how many we sell. But yeah. I need your music.”

Tsukishima’s still at a loss as to how Kuroo had found her. She’d produced a trap EP, but trap didn’t seem his style, and all her other tracks were on her Soundcloud (which was steadily growing in popularity but nowhere near enough to attract the attention of other artist-types). Looking at the paintings on the café table, and they all blended together seamlessly in colour and abstraction despite the differences in theme, she could see a way in which she might construct a gallery backing track. Working with Kuroo meant more business. It meant CDs sold at the gallery and custom jewel cover art.

Kuroo backed out of that folder and entered a new one, a folder named “Grey” that contained only one file. At first glance, it looked like a bird, a phoenix raising brilliantly flaming wings in front of a brilliantly blue sky and clear green plains – upon second look, Tsukishima realised the wings were curtains, the plains and sky lay beyond a window, and then began to see things in the reflections of the glass panes.

“Yeah, alright,” she said, tugging her headphones further down around her neck. “I can get something done.”

“That’s great,” said Kuroo, earnestly, though she detected something teasing in his tone that probably never went fully away. “They say you’re the best up-and-coming artist.”

“Music artist,” she corrected. Kuroo was challenging her. _They say,_ he said, _Okay, prove it._

 

4 – Sun

There was a heavy sheet of snow on the ground. Kuroo had a kotatsu in his living room, and Tsukishima’s frozen toes ached to reach it, but they were huddled in bed, and the walk might be more painful than the reward was sweet. Besides, she felt very comfortable like this, listening to Kuroo’s parents laughing in the kitchen, head tucked under Kuroo’s chin, watching the winter sky through the window.

 

5 – Yesterday

Last New Year’s Eve, Tsukishima had wished that, in the coming year, Kuroo would show some interest in her other than mocking respect for his mentee. Of course, her mother told her that Kuroo’s level of interest was wholly dependent on whether Tsukishima could lift the surly attitude for long enough to smile at him. Her mother made a fair point, but Tsukishima hated guys like Kuroo and Bokuto, who seemed to make a mockery out of every block she made, the way she wore thigh-length compression leggings instead of short shorts, the expression on her face. Tsukishima hated them because she could never tell whether they were laughing at or with her.

Bokuto seemed to at least like her a little. He’d been nudging Kuroo through the training camp and then whenever they met up afterwards, waggling those ridiculous eyebrows of his and nudging Kuroo towards her by patting him on the ass or shoulders. Tsukishima might have been put off if Bokuto hadn’t already been dating Akashi from his own team – according to Bokuto, he and Kuroo had made a go of it once before Kuroo decided that no, he was definitely more into girls with hips and breasts and long hair. Bokuto told her Kuroo really liked long hair on girls, looking meaningfully at Tsukishima’s plait.

This year, Tsukishima thought she’d been losing the plot. Examination season had pulled Kuroo from the game, and he would be graduating to university soon, and now something about him seemed a little older than it had before. He’d stopped teasing her so much, didn’t have so much time to practice or even text her. Sports science, he said, and dietetics, wherever in Tokyo he could get in. There’d be hundreds of girls with long hair at university.

And then she was invited to a graduation party at Daichi’s the week after school let out in late July. She washed her hair and brushed it, rubbed it dry and parted it to the side, looked at her face in the bathroom mirror. Steam rose around her feet, hot and cloying. Without her glasses, she looked almost like a different person. Older than sixteen. Kinder, once her sharp hazel eyes weren’t focused through rectangular lenses. She hastily dabs mascara across her eyelashes and puts her glasses back on. She stares more. Then she brushes lipstick – a very bright pink – across her lips, rimming them with a darker colour, something she rarely does, and every moment of it makes her feel strange, a bit uncomfortable, especially when she pulls jeans up around her hips and realises she’s gradually growing curvier, though her legs are still very long, and though she feels strange she still feels as comfortably confident as always.

She doesn’t think about Kuroo at all, in fact, until she runs into Yamaguchi out the front of Daichi’s brightly lit home – there were students and ex-students already inside, milling with their backs to the windows – and Yamaguchi squeaks and beams at Tsukishima. “Wow,” she says, “You look good!”

Tsukishima nods shortly. “You look good too. Who else is here?”

“Everyone,” says Yamaguchi, looking excited, “The whole team, and Nekoma, and Oikawa and Bokuto and some of their friends. They rented two vans!”

“And I suppose they’ll all be sleeping on Daichi’s floor.”

Yamaguchi leads the way back inside, where she’d evidently been talking to Hinata, and Tsukishima’s welcomed warmly by almost everyone before they turn back to their own conversations – she sees Kuroo in the middle of the room, as usual, with Bokuto and Daichi and Suga and a few other guys from the team. Bokuto looks up in time to see her watching – Tsukishima just about boils with embarrassed rage – and grins, nudging Kuroo.

“Man,” sighs Yamaguchi, “I wish a guy liked me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” retorts Tsukishima, sharply, but Hinata pats Yamaguchi’s shoulder sympathetically.

“Lots of guys like you,” says Hinata, to Yamaguchi, “You’re cute!”

“How would you know,” says Yamaguchi, morosely, shoulders drooping a little. “You’re gay.”

Hinata smiles stupidly, and leans up to kiss her girlfriend – who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else but here – on the cheek.

 

2 –

They’d been introduced in the training bay by Karasuno’s advisor, and Tsukishima had been grudgingly impressed by Kuroo’s skill with charms and hand-to-hand. Kuroo had smiled lopsidedly, and she’d looked coldly back at him. They were highly compatible, actually. Their dual banishment charms had almost as much power as the Kuroo-and-Bokuto or Kuroo-and-Kenma teams, surprising given the comparatively short time they’d known each other.

He was also very strong, logging a lot of hours in the central gym on his time off from rotation exercises with the Nekoma team. He pushed Tsukishima to train more, and every part of him but his shirt made sure to show up whenever she was there. After watching him for a while – free weights was his exercise of choice – she decided he wasn’t that bad looking, and after a while longer, that his dick was just marginally big enough to compensate for his personality.

 

4 –

Kei smiles as their fingers knit together under the bedcovers, and Kuroo feels warm and tightens his arms around her.

 

3 –

“No,” said Tsukishima, as she realised Kuroo fully intended to shuck his boxers only halfway down his thighs. “Take them off.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, but he complied. They made a puddle on the floor, along with his shirt, pants, and Tsukishima’s headphones. She liked to look at her partners before going down on them, and Kuroo was particularly nice to look at – his shoulders, arms and chest tanned, muscular and hairless, with only a slight trail from his navel to the trimmed hair above his dick. That was nice, too, long and curved up against his stomach, smooth, and Tsukishima wrapped her hands around it, leaning forward to lick the tip.

He groaned through his teeth and wound his fingers lightly through Tsukishima’s loosely falling hair, thumb stroking and clenching her shoulder in intervals. She licked around the head, gently squeezing the base as she took it into her mouth; she usually found blowjobs more disgusting than this, but Kuroo was trying hard not to buck up into her and his hands were soft and warm through her shirt. His fingers moved to unclip her bra. His fingers failed. Tsukishima barely repressed a sigh – she’d had only one boyfriend who’d managed first go, and he’d turned out to be a panty-snatching dickbag.

“Enough,” groaned Kuroo, trying in vain to push her off. “Gonna cum.”

“Then cum. I don’t care.”

He groaned even more loudly, tried to push her off again, but Tsukishima didn’t care about a little cum getting in her mouth when he’d be getting her own slick in his in just a moment. His fingers clenched briefly before releasing. Kuroo was quieter than she’d expected.

She padded across the cool floor of his loft to the bathroom, spitting into the sink and checking her face. Fine, all fine – she was barely flushing. She quickly stripped off her clothes, hanging them over the bare towel rack, and made sure to saunter back into the room, watching Kuroo closely. His mouth had slackened somewhat.

“Kei,” he said, abruptly, “I like you a lot.”

Tsukishima melted; she could feel herself growing steadily wetter as her heart grew steadily softer for him; she kneeled between his thighs and kissed him.

He kissed her back, this artist, kissed her all the way down in an awfully straight line to her clitoris – she liked that, her boobs were on the smaller side and they didn’t feel much, and she was sick of men fucking around up there as she lay back and wished she had a book – and then he started to suck on her, and she loved Kuroo Tetsurou, he was the greatest fucking thing in the world, and his tongue was stiff and so thorough –

“You’re loud,” he murmured against her, and she shuddered around his tongue. “Oh. Well, that’s one. How many can you go, Kei?”

With the way he was saying her name, Tsukishima felt she could go for a long while. “God,” she said, “God, Kuroo…”

“Tetsurou,” he said. He licked up into her. The tip of his nose nudged her clit, and that felt weirdly fantastic.

“God, Tetsurou,” she said sarcastically. It turned out not-so-sarcastic when he slipped two fingers straight in and started stroking inside her, or when he hissed her name as she started jerking him back to hardness, or when they slid together and Kuroo’s lovely face was inches from her own, his jaw defined and clenched as she moved against him, clenching so tight on him he bit lightly into her shoulder.

 

1 –

“It’s kind of hot,” she said, from a suitable vantage point as he kissed his way down her inner thigh.

He looked up at her and smiled. “Knew you’d see it that way.”

 

5 –

Tsukishima was stupid drunk, and she loved Kuroo’s face as she sat on his lap on the couch and everyone else was sort of leaving them be, and she’d said why won’t you ask me out it’ll be hard when you’re in Tokyo and I’m just a stupid high school student but you like me.

“Go out with me,” he’d said, and he stuttered.

“Alright.”

He sat with her for the rest of the night and she ran the pads of her fingers up and down his neck as he kept his arms wrapped loosely around her and they kissed a bit but nothing serious and at the end of the night he took her home and made sure her mother collected her from him.

In the morning when Tsukishima woke up, her whole team was sending their congratulations, and Kuroo was sleeping on the spare futon in her living room.

 

+1 – New Year

Tsukishima’s clock is ticking down fast, and she keeps glancing down at her wrist. To any passers-by, she probably looks irritated whereas, in truth, she’s nervous. She wants to get back to her apartment – the party’s already started without her, Yamaguchi let them all in – and she’d rather her soulmate be an acquaintance of someone she knows and likes than some greasy old man on the street. Her friends keep telling her the system’s preordained, but she’d rather be safe than sorry.

She sees her block up ahead and speeds up, knowing she has about a minute before she bumps into forever. There’s very few people around, and she makes sure to look carefully at all of them, knowing it won’t be any of them, her clock’s still running.

“Tsukishima!” It’s Hinata, someone she already knows, waiting outside the gates to her apartment complex, and she has fifteen seconds. It couldn’t possibly be him. “Tsukishima, let us in!”

He has Kenma with him, she’s seen pictures, and then someone else – and her timer goes off, and so does his.

The stranger startles, looks down at his wrist, and then back to her. He smiles slowly, bemusedly, and then looks at his watch. “Basically midnight,” he says, “That’s awesome.”

“This is Kuroo Tetsurou,” says Kenma, nervously looking back and forth between them. “He’s in collegiate volleyball, like Hinata.”

“And this is…?”

“Tsukishima Kei,” she says.

Kuroo smiles more widely. He’s looking straight at her, not up and down her, which she likes a lot, and his face is strong and attractive. He’s tall, too, even taller than she is. “Wow,” he says, “I’m relieved. I’ve heard about your blocking.”

She swipes her pass across the gate sensor, trying to calm her heart. She’s met him, and he’s not bad looking, and he’s around her age, a university student, and he plays volleyball.

They look sideways at each other in the elevator. He goes to take her hand, retracts it, and she takes his, and it’s a bit sweaty but otherwise not too bad.

Hinata can barely stop laughing – he relays the story to the entire party, and every eye is on them, and January starts off with Kuroo and Tsukishima sitting a little apart on the balcony sharing an awful mix of vodka and lemonade, telling each other about themselves.


End file.
